


my heart will destroy us

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Goro's in over his head, Joker as a semi-separate entity from Akira, M/M, Selfcest, it's possible he's BEEN in over his head for some time, joker has a mind of his own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 16:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17207168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: Akira's bed isn't really big enough for the three of them, so it has to be Goro's place.Follows shortly afteryou're a loaded gun (and my finger's on the trigger).





	my heart will destroy us

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the "threesomes" prompt for Kinktober 2018, but it is long enough and late enough to stand on its own.

There’s something - unsettling, Goro decides, about watching Joker prowl around his apartment, dark coat fluttering behind him. He hadn’t really meant to let it get this far, but Akira’s mouth and Joker’s hands seem to shut down Goro’s higher brain functions. Joker pauses before an abstract print done in black and white and red; Goro knows what _he_ sees in it, but he wonders what about it catches Joker’s attention. Joker skims a hand over the back of the couch on the way to the bookshelf, then folds his hands behind his back, leaning in to inspect the knick-knacks Goro has carefully selected and displayed. His attention seems to get caught by the books lined up neatly on the bottom shelf, and he crouches, reaching out to drag his fingers over the spines.

His fingers pause on one title, and Goro is trying to subtly see which one when a pair of arms slide around his waist.

Akira rests his chin on Goro’s shoulder. “I like the monogrammed towels,” he says, and there’s a thread of laughter in his voice that makes Goro want to smack him.

“I have an image to maintain,” he says loftily instead, and Joker snorts, leaving off inspecting the books and standing.

“I think you just like it,” he says, turning with a shark’s grin. “Having your name stamped on everything.”

Goro sniffs. “If you’re going to be insufferable you can leave.”

“Nah,” Joker says, closing the distance between them. Akira reaches out as he approaches and Joker takes his hand, lacing their fingers together as he slides his other arm around Goro’s waist. “I get it.”

Joker’s kiss is never quite the same twice; today he’s light and playful, hand spreading wide on Goro’s back as he steps in close, pressing a string of kisses along Goro’s jawline with only the slightest nip of teeth when he reaches Goro’s mouth. Goro fists a hand in Joker’s collar to hold him still and leans in, chasing the heat of Joker’s mouth as Akira’s arms tighten around his stomach. Joker makes a smug noise and bites down on Goro’s lip, hard enough that Goro gasps and jerks back.

“Why did I invite you over, again?” He says testily, and Joker’s hand leaves his back, coming up to rub a thumb over Goro’s mouth.

Joker’s eyes sparkle. “Akira’s bed is too small. Come on,” he says, grabbing Goro’s hand with his own and starting to walk backward. “Maybe this will convince him to upgrade.”

“I’m not asking Sojiro to buy me a bigger bed,” Akira says, amused, as Joker pulls the two of them backward toward Goro’s bedroom. This sounds like an old argument.

Joker rolls his eyes, shouldering the bedroom door open. “Who said anything about asking Sojiro.”

Further conversation is forestalled as Joker yanks Akira forward, releasing Goro’s hand in favor of cupping Akira’s cheek as Akira catches himself against Joker’s chest. Joker’s lips on Akira’s are just as compelling as ever, and Goro swallows as Akira hums and leans into Joker, mouth moving slow and relaxed against his. Joker pulls Akira backward until Joker’s calves hit the edge of Goro’s bed, then he turns, pulling Akira down with him. Akira bounces as his back hits the mattress, and he laughs as their mouths break apart. Joker settles over Akira’s legs, hands going to the buttons on Akira’s school jacket, and Akira extends a hand out to Goro, licking lips gone red and wet and so, so inviting.

Goro doesn’t need to be asked twice. He sheds his own jacket on the way to the bed, hands going to his tie as he gets a knee up on the mattress. Akira beats him to it, reaching out and wrapping the fabric around his fist as he tugs, pulling Goro in for a kiss.

Goro’s given some thought to the difference between Akira’s mouth and Joker’s, but he’s always willing to do more research. Akira kisses just as passionately as Joker, but it’s a slower, banked fire, where Joker is a blazing inferno. Joker likes to use his teeth where Akira prefers his tongue, but there’s a heat that curls through both of them that sets Goro’s heart racing and brings his breath up short in his lungs. He thinks he could tell the difference between them blindfolded, now; and that _is_ an interesting thought, and one he might come back to later, but for now he has to pull back as Joker pulls Akira’s shirt and jacket over his head in one motion. Akira fights briefly with the fabric then emerges with glasses askew, shooting an exasperated glance at Joker. Joker grins, unrepentant, and turns to Goro.

“Your turn,” he says, hands going to the buttons on Goro’s shirt. There are _definitely_ worse fates than being undressed by Joker while Akira props himself up on his elbows and watches, so Goro submits, raising his hands and letting Joker have his way.

In this, at least.

The bed shifts as Akira pulls himself up. He carefully lifts the mask away from Joker’s face and Joker starts, stilling in the midst of pushing Goro’s shirt down his shoulders. He turns and to look at Akira, and they have second or two of silent communication - or maybe silent _argument_ is a better phrase, Goro thinks, watching fascinated as Joker’s brows draw down in a scowl. Akira shakes his head and leans forward, capturing Joker’s lips with his own, and Joker softens, leaning into Akira like he can’t help it, like it’s instinct to get as close as he can. When they break apart Akira smiles softly, leaning over to set the mask on the bedside table next to his glasses.

Goro’s not going to ask. He’s _not_. “Can you -” He cuts off as twin pairs of eyes look back at him, pinning him in place.

Joker glances at Akira and back at Goro, a knowing grin pulling at his face. “Can we what?”

Goro can feel the red rising in his cheeks. This is humiliating, having to _ask_ \- but it’s also really, really not, not when it’s Akira. Both of him, even - Joker might tease but he follows Akira’s lead. Most of the time. 

“Can you - I want -” He swallows, and this _is_ humiliating, not being able to get the words out without feeling like his head is going to burst.

Identical smirks flit across Akira’s and Joker’s faces; they don’t often look as exactly alike as they do now, sharing a glance and shifting as one. Joker pulls Goro’s shirt down to his wrists, trapping his arms behind him as Akira drapes himself over Joker’s back, arms slung loosely around Joker’s shoulders.

“What is it that you _want_ , Goro?” Akira’s voice is deeper than usual, his eyes dark. “Do you want to watch him fuck me?”

Goro’s breath catches short and a strangled sound escapes his throat. Joker laughs and Akira grins. “I’ve seen the way you watch us. I think you’d like that. But maybe you’d rather be a little more hands-on; maybe you’d rather do it yourself. Or maybe,” Akira continues thoughtfully, “maybe what you want is for _us_ to fuck _you_.”

“Could do it at the same time, even,” Joker adds helpfully, and Goro feels like he’s going to pass out.

He breathes in deliberately, swallowing against a throat suddenly gone dry. “Perhaps,” he says faintly, distantly grateful for Joker’s arms keeping him upright. “Perhaps we can work our way through that list.”

Joker leans in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Knew there was a reason I liked you,” he says. Akira smacks his shoulder and Joker laughs, pulling Goro’s shirt the rest of the way off.

They end up tangled together on their sides on the bed, Akira facing Goro as Joker studiously works him open with careful fingers. Goro reaches out, fascinated by the small shifts in Akira’s expression as Joker presses a second finger in. Akira turns his face into Goro’s palm, eyes fluttering and breath sighing out against Goro’s palm. Goro feels something tighten in his chest; Joker looks up as if he can hear it, and Goro leans in and presses his lips against Akira’s to hide whatever’s on his face.

Akira moans into his mouth as Joker’s fingers twist, his hips shifting in anxious little fits and starts, his cock hard and wet with precome against his stomach. Goro presses his palm against it, savoring his way Akira’s hips immediately rock into his hand, the little desperate noise Akira makes against his lips.

Akira makes a disgruntled noise and Goro looks up to see Joker withdrawing his fingers and wiping them on Goro’s discarded shirt. Before he can get too worked up about that Joker is reaching over and pulling Goro closer, until his feet are tangled with Akira’s and their cocks brush together, trapped between them. Joker lifts Akira’s leg and drapes it over Goro’s, and Akira immediately shifts to hook it around the back of Goro’s knees.

“Hold him still,” Joker directs, and Goro puts a hand out on Akira’s side to steady him as Joker lubes up his dick and positions it at Akira’s entrance.

Akira’s eyes fly open when Joker starts pressing in, mouth dropping agape as his body adjusts. He’s making the most gorgeous, breathy little sounds, and Goro wants to keep him like this forever, hair damp with sweat, eyes locked on Goro’s as Joker fucks into him. Akira bites his lip as Joker pulls back and presses in again, a small sound escaping him as Joker’s fingers tighten on his hip.

Akira looks - beautiful, amazing, Goro’s running out of adjectives but _this_ is going to be seared into his brain forever, the way Akira’s eyes stay focused on Goro’s even as Joker picks up speed, the _hungry_ noise he makes when Goro trails his hand down Akira’s side to his stomach and wraps it loosely around his cock. Akira moans, and Joker reaches over and tugs on Goro’s wrist; as first Goro thinks he’s telling Goro to back off, but he lifts Goro’s hand only to resettle it over both of their cocks and Goro takes the hint, pressing his hips into Akira’s as he presses their hips together and starts to stroke.

Akira’s soft moans fill the room over the sounds of skin on skin, stoking the heat in Goro’s stomach as Akira rocks forward into Goro’s hand and backwards onto Joker’s cock. His eyes are going glazed, unseeing, and Goro leans forward to press their mouths together. It’s sloppy, uncoordinated, but he wants to keep Akira _here_ , with him, as long as possible. He uses the barest bit of teeth and Akira makes a muffled sound, pressing back into him. Akira’s arm slides around Goro’s back, pulling him even closer, and everywhere he touches feels like fire; Goro desperately wants to stay like this, wrapped up in heat and brightness and _Akira_ , someplace where tomorrow may never come.

Akira gasps against Goro’s lips, and his cock twitches against Goro’s hand; Goro pulls back just in time to see Akira’s face go bright with pleasure, wiped clean of everything except this moment as his body wrings tight under Goro and Joker’s hands. Joker buries his face in Akira’s hair and grinds his hips against Akira’s ass; a moment later his body shakes too and he slumps, boneless, against Akira’s back.

Akira’s hand gropes clumsily at Goro’s where it’s wrapped around their cocks; he takes Goro’s straining dick in hand and it doesn’t have the most finesse but it only takes a few strokes before Goro’s body draws tight and his hips jerk, painting his release all over Akira’s stomach. Goro presses close, tucking his head under Akira’s chin; this is going to be _disgusting_ in a minute but right now he needs to be as close as he can, to feel Akira’s warmth against his skin and his heartbeat under his cheek, the frantic tempo slowing in time with Goro’s own.

Goro only realizes he’s let his eyes drift closed when he feels a pair of hands on him. He opens them to see that Akira has snaked an arm around his middle and is rubbing small circles against the small of his back; Joker has one arm draped proprietarily over Akira but his hand is tracing a pattern Goro can’t discern against Goro’s chest.

“Good?” Joker says, low and self-satisfied, and Goro catches his hand, bringing it up to his lips.

“Very good,” he murmurs, brushing his lips over Joker’s knuckles for the way Joker’s fingers tighten on his and Akira’s eyes sharpen with interest. “Thank you.” He lays Joker’s hand back on Akira’s chest, over his heart. 

“Don’t thank me,” Joker says with a yawn, dropping his head down into Akira’s neck. He sounds like he’s seconds away from sleep, and Goro sits up to pull back the covers. He hadn’t...really thought past this point, hadn’t _really_ intended on letting them stay, but seeing Joker’s face pushed sleepily into the back of Akira’s neck and the soft look in Akira’s eyes as he glances back at Goro is suddenly - it’s too much to think about right now. Joker grumbles a bit as Akira and Goro manhandle him under the sheets but once he’s settled he wraps an arm about Akira’s middle and appears to drop instantly, deeply asleep.

Goro eyes him for a minute. Does he - does he _need_ to sleep? He’s never stuck around this long before - 

His attention is drawn back by Akira’s hand on his face, and he lets Akira pull him back down, settling on the pillow next to them. He blinks against the sudden lethargy pulling at his limbs; he feels pleasantly exhausted and warm, and even with unfamiliar bodies in his bed he feels like he could sleep for a week.

“Sleep, then,” Akira says, and Goro hadn’t realized he’d said that last part out loud. Akira reaches out to brush the hair out of Goro’s eyes. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

“What’s to talk about,” Goro mumbles, fighting to keep his eyelids open.

Akira smiles, but it’s tinged with a ruefulness Goro has rarely seen on him. “Nothing, I guess. Go to sleep.”

Goro wants to protest that he’s fine, he’s awake, but his eyes close mid sentence and the last thing he hears is Akira’s chuckle.

* * *

When Goro wakes in the morning there’s only one Akira in bed with him.

One is still more than enough; Goro tries to hold still, breathing carefully so as to not wake him. The sky outside is still the gray of early morning, lighter than Akira’s eyes but still not anything Goro wants to be awake for if he doesn’t have to. This, though; he’ll risk any amount of sleep deprivation for this, for the chance to watch Akira’s face unobserved from inches away. Akira’s tousled hair has fallen over his eyes, and Goro’s fingers itch to brush it out of the way. He curls them against the pillow instead, and as he does he catches sight of something gleaming white on the bedside table behind Akira’s head.

He lifts his head a fraction, and the gleam resolves itself into Joker’s mask, bright and shining in the morning light.

Goro raises his head and looks around. Joker’s clothes are gone from the floor and there’s no sound of anyone moving about the apartment. He looks back at the mask, still sitting simple and innocent on the bedside table, as if it isn’t the embodiment of a blatant impossibility.

Goro holds his breath for a moment, and when nothing happens, slides out of bed as carefully as he can. Akira grumbles something and curls further into himself, but he doesn’t appear to wake. Goro lets out a breath, fishing out his boxers from the pile of clothing on the floor.

The cool morning air pebbles his skin as he pads out to his small living room, pulling on yesterday’s shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. No sign of Joker here, either, nor in the small kitchenette. Goro frowns. Joker’s never left an artifact behind before when he goes back to Akira’s heart, or wherever he lives; on the other hand, it’s not the first impossible thing about him and it’s unlikely to be the last.

Goro turns on his heel, heading back toward the bedroom. He can ask Akira about it when he wakes up -

Goro pauses midstep, attention caught by the something out of place on the shelf of books near the floor. He’s read them all, although he does most of his reading on his phone these days; nevertheless each of these titles had meant something to him, one of the few indulgences he’d allowed himself when decorating this apartment.

One of the titles has been pulled out a few inches, no longer flush with its brothers. Goro frowns as he reaches down to pull it out, then nearly drops it.

 _Norse Mythology_. Goro knows the contents by heart. He stands frozen for a minute, and then carefully leans back down to tuck it carefully away. He looks back at the bedroom, but Akira hasn’t stirred.

This doesn’t mean anything. Joker might have - he might have pulled it out by accident when he was looking at the books last night. This could be nothing more than justifiable paranoia and an untimely coincidence.

Or it could be a warning.

Goro pauses in the doorway to the bedroom, watching Akira sleep. If there’s a caution here, Joker is the one that left it; for all that he seems the more amiable of the two, Akira is the one who will strike without a word, if the opportunity presents itself.

Akira stirs and lifts his head, sending Goro a sleepy smile. “G’morning,” he mumbles. He sounds - happy. Content. Not at all like he’s going to send all of Goro’s plans into disarray.

Goro thinks about the book in his living room, the tightness in his chest when Akira smiles, the way he’s been doing everything in his power to avoid thinking about the end of November.

If there’s a warning here, Goro thinks with a sinking sensation, it may be too late.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at thirtysixsavefiles on [Tumblr](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com/) and [Pillowfort!](https://www.pillowfort.io/thirtysixsavefiles)


End file.
